And All for Some Bloody Potatoes
by volley
Summary: Something that happens during an away mission brings Malcolm back in time... Written for Drown Malcolm Month


Yay, time for another Drown Malcolm story! :-)

Beta read by RoaringMice. Italics indicate events taking place in the past.

* * *

"A penny for your thoughts?"

Malcolm had perceived Trip's approach even before he had spoken, but didn't turn to acknowledge his friend. Gaze on the waves sloshing rhythmically onto the shore a couple of metres away, he curved his mouth into a tentative smile.

"As an Englishman I can assure you, Commander, that pennies haven't been legal tender for decades," he bantered. "Besides, I seriously doubt you possess such an obsolete item of currency."

He wondered if his efforts to redirect Trip's curiosity would succeed. They didn't. The man plonked himself down beside him, and Malcolm knew what that meant. Maybe his spikier-than-usual accent had given him away. What was sure, was that despite the turbulent evening Trip was his usual laid-back self. The two of them couldn't be more different. The hell if he – Malcolm – would have approached, let alone forced his company on, someone who was quite obviously brooding. But if truth be told the notion stung somewhat, for it carried with it a bitter taste of social awkwardness.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Trip studying him.

"Extra power to your Armoury, then?" the Engineer playfully insisted.

Malcolm cast him a brief side glance. "That's bribery."

Chuckling, Trip stretched out on the sand and leaned back on his elbows, and for a while he seemed to accept Malcolm's stalling tactics.

There was a strange light now, an alien sort of twilight. It was a relaxing hue of green. Legs crossed, arms dangling loosely from his knees, Malcolm grabbed a handful of sand. It was already cooler to the touch, now that the sun was setting. He tightened the grip and felt the tiny grains slip through his fingers, escaping the constraint of his hand as that memory today had escaped the constraint of his subconscious. Like to a magnet, his gaze returned to the waves. The bloody waves, the blasted waves. They looked so innocent when, like now, they calmly lapped at the water's edge...

_Be careful, and don't stray. Watch Maddie, Malcolm, don't let her near the water till I return. I won't be half an hour. I'll just... _

"Nice evening," Trip drawled, cutting through Malcolm's reverie.

So much the better. He couldn't remember what their mother had gone home for, anyway. Something important she had forgotten. For the rest, though, that day always felt like yesterday, so clearly did it stand out in his mind every time he thought of it.

"Nice, yeah."

"Aren't you cold?"

"No."

He was being less than good company. Part of Malcolm didn't care; but another part felt bad about it. The latter won. "It's almost dry," he said with a shrug, feeling the top of his uniform, which he had pulled down to his waist. His black shirt lay stretched out on the beach, along with his undershirt. He had taken off his boots and socks too. The feeling of bare feet on sand was disquieting, for it threatened to bring him back in time again and again.

Malcolm raked a hand through his damp hair and finally turned to give Trip a decent look. A Lieutenant Reed look. "What's our status?"

"I managed to get away, but the Capt'n and T'Pol are still with the Governor." Trip jerked his head backwards, in the vague direction of the Government building, at the back of the square just behind the beach. "_And_ they're quite safe," he added meaningfully. "The Capt'n said you can return to the ship if-"

"It's not necessary. I'll wait."

Silence fell. Ghosts reappeared.

_Whatcha doing?_

_Building a fortress._

_I'm gonna look for round pebbles._

_Oh, come on, that's so bloody girlish!_

_Malcolm! That's a bad word. I'll tell mum._

Trip stirred, and Malcolm was grateful for the distraction – till the man opened his mouth.

"What happened before..." Trip hesitated, suddenly serious, as he pulled himself back up to sitting. "I've never seen you like that, that look in your eyes," he concluded.

Except that it was no conclusion; more like a nudge to make him speak. Malcolm tightened his lips in an unconscious reaction. He could feel his friend's eyes on him.

"Well, now you have," he huffed out.

He didn't expect Trip to understand. He didn't want him to understand, even. Past and present had suddenly merged, and he had acted on impulse. The rest... He felt a blush rise, which the dim light hopefully would cover.

"Don't get me wrong," Trip added, in a hurry and yet cautiously, "what you did was great – I mean-"

"Trip, I misread the situation entirely, made a fool of myself and almost caused a diplomatic incident," Malcolm darkly cut him off. "There is nothing great about that."

The evening breeze tickled his bare skin. He turned back to look at the sky, where it was still glowing with that greenish light. The twilight was lasting much longer than it would on Earth, but the light was definitely fading. The rocks that formed a sort of pier, stretching out into the sea, were but a dark form now. They looked so damned much like those of another beach, light years away...

_Don't go near the water, Maddie. And don't go far. _

_I'll go as far as I want._

_Well, do as you please, then. Get lost, drown!_

"You said you heard a scream?"

"Trip, it's okay," Malcolm said firmly. "I'm fine."

Damned be the moment they had stumbled upon this planet. Damned be the Governor, for organising an informal outdoor reception near the seaside. Damned… damn himself. Alert as any good security officer should be, he'd heard a faint scream and swiftly turned to spot its point of origin: a girl on the rocks; there one moment, gone the next, disappeared in the spray of a breaking wave. She hadn't been alone, but Malcolm's eyes had perceived only her, for that carefully-stored memory had been ripped open, and places and times had merged. Needing to ground himself, on instinct he had grabbed the closest thing, which had turned out to be Trip's arm. The Engineer had spilt his drink, and their eyes had met for a brief moment, Malcolm's haunted, Trip's wide with surprise.

Then Malcolm had taken off.

"Anyway, it's crazy what these kids do," Trip went on. "Jumpin' into the waves as they break on the rocks!"

He was stubbornly trying to keep the conversation going. Good old Trip. With a resigned sigh, Malcolm lay down, fingers interweaved and cupped under his head. He wiggled to make the sand reshape to his body. "As it turns out, their physiology allows them to take the risk," he grumbled. "No brittle bones to break or tender flesh to cut open." He gave a bitter snort. "I should've realised it."

"Ah – how could you?"

Malcolm shot Trip a look that was meaningful even in the failing light, and the Engineer winced. "Okay, these people don't exactly look very frail," he admitted. He lay down too, but on his side, facing Malcolm, head propped up on one hand. "An elephant's skin is probably delicate in comparison," was the chuckled conclusion.

"Exactly."

Malcolm closed his eyes. He probably _would_ have perceived the other kids and recognised it as a game if it hadn't been for the memory of that long-passed summer day, the day when his nightmare had started.

_Maddie, get down from those rocks!_

_Look at all the shells, Malcolm, they're beautiful!_

_Get down, now! Maddie! Watch out!_

"Ya know…"

Trip faltered, and Malcolm reopened his eyes on the first stars, which had appeared where the sky had already turned dark.

"It's okay to feel fear. It's human."

Good. Old. Trip. Malcolm clenched his jaw. It was okay to feel fear; it was less okay for a security officer to show panic.

"Those were pretty big waves," Trip resumed, "And the rocks were dangerously close, and that girl was screaming and struggling against you, and…"

Malcolm waited for him to go on, but he didn't. Trip was too intelligent not to know how weak those arguments were in the face of his odd behaviour, and that the answer to it wasn't in them.

Silence fell. The images of his would-be rescue passed through Malcolm's mind in slow motion: the girl, disappearing into the swelling sea; himself, diving and reaching her with powerful strokes; her screaming, as he'd grabbed her; a flourish of arms and legs; panic suddenly gripping him. They had made it back to the beach, but not exactly like rescuer and _rescuee_ – if that was even a word. That part was a bit blurry, but _she_ had helped _him_, more than the opposite. Once on firm ground he had gone dumb for a good five minutes. Archer had knelt down beside him, put one fatherly hand on his shoulder – for he was privy to his secret – and asked him what the hell had happened, but Malcolm's tongue had been stuck to his palate.

"Thank you for speaking on my behalf," Malcolm said, his voice darkened by the burden of shame.

"Hey, what are friends for?" was the quiet reply.

Trip had immediately stepped in, telling what he could only guess had happened. He had guessed right; but still, there had been a lot more than had met the eye, and which he could hardly have imagined.

In any case, the Governor had seemed quite upset by the incident. He had put an end to the reception and invited them all inside the Government building. Seeing Archer hesitate, Malcolm had finally found his tongue to say that he was fine. He'd been about to get up and follow them, when Archer had pushed him back down and ordered him to wait out in the sun, and get his clothes dry.

Gaze on the stars, Malcolm took in a deep breath. He owed Trip one.

"Look, Trip, what happened today-" A hand on his arm cut him off, and he turned to meet rueful eyes.

"I don't wanna know." As if suddenly realising how that sounded, after the last ten minutes, Trip grimaced. "Okay, I realise I've been buggin' you to talk, but… You don't really need to tell me. All I want to know is if you're okay, keeping things inside. Sometimes it helps to talk."

Malcolm tightened his lips. Nothing had helped, and nothing would ever help.

_His lungs were ready to explode as he dove for the third time in the foamy water. Where was she? Stupid girl! Hadn't she seen how big the waves were today? But the real idiot had been he, for getting distracted and letting her out of his watchful eye. _

_The current was strong, making whirlpools near the rocks, onto which each new wave threatened to throw him. _

_And then he spotted what looked like a strange creature. Heart in his throat, Malcolm grabbed a handful of the blond hair and pulled. He was kicking his feet to re-emerge, when a strong wave caught him. He banged his head; then nothing. _

_The next he knew, he was lying on the beach, and a man he didn't know was pressing something on his head. It hurt like hell. _

"_Maddie," he heard himself whine, though the last thing he wanted to know was if he had caused his sister's death._

"_She'll be okay," the man answered. "Lie still. You have a nasty cut on your head. An ambulance is on its way."_

_Maddie wiggled closer and clung to his arm, a wet, trembling thing, and only then did Malcolm realise that the background noise he'd been hearing was her frightened sobbing._

_And then he heard his mother's scream._

Malcolm blinked, refocusing on Trip's eyes. "If there's anyone I would tell, that'd be you," he said deep in his chest. "But… I'll be fine."

"Kay."

It was good to know he could count on a friend like Trip, Malcolm mused. Life was strange sometimes. Take today. It could knock you on your arse, and right after offer you a hand to get up again.

Suddenly, there were voices approaching. Malcolm quickly pulled himself up.

"Boss is back," Trip drawled, following suit. He rubbed his hands clean of the sand that had stuck to them. "Time to pack."

Reaching for his T-shirt, Malcolm dressed himself hastily, and they headed for the group in the square. It was dark now, the street lamps casting them all in a cold light that didn't help Malcolm's injured self-confidence. As they approached, Archer nodded, his eyes running him up and down. Malcolm straightened his stance and nodded back.

* * *

"Were you able to patch things up, Sir?" Malcolm forced himself to ask, after the Governor and his entourage had taken their leave. Archer, who was watching the Shuttlepod's beacons as it made its landing approach over the beach, turned, and his green gaze bore into him for a moment that felt very long.

"Yes, everything turned out all right," the Captain finally said. "They are willing to establish relations." He paused; he looked tired. "How about you, everything okay?"

"Fine, Sir, thank you." Clenching his jaw, Malcolm steadied himself. The sooner he said it the better. "I am sorry, Captain. I thought the girl was in trouble, and…" He didn't know how to finish the thought, for it would imply revealing too much, so he left it hanging.

Archer studied him some more. "It was brave of you, Lieutenant, considering."

He'd said it with a hint of a genuine admiration, though for Malcolm's ears only. Then the Captain turned to say something to Trip, but Malcolm didn't pick it up, too tired and relieved to pay attention.

* * *

The hot shower had been pure bliss. In his skivvies, Malcolm left his small bathroom, rubbing a towel over his wet hair. He felt reconciled with the world – well, the universe. And quite ready for a quiet evening.

He'd just pulled on a pair of sweatpants, when there was a buzz. He slipped into his desk chair, pressing a key on his computer, and Hoshi appeared on the screen.

"I've got that link, Lieutenant," she said, while her dark eyes shifted ever so briefly to take in his state of undress.

"So quickly?" Malcolm wondered in surprise, grabbing his T-shirt and pulling it on. "Nobody calling home tonight?"

"Nope. Channels are freer than usual. You're in luck."

"Put me through, then. Thanks, Hoshi."

"Better grab a comb," Hoshi chimed, before disappearing.

Malcolm was raking a hand through his hair, hoping to make it a bit more presentable, when another face appeared on the screen. It struck him how, all of a sudden, he could see the similarities between himself and his sister. He'd always thought they were completely different.

"Malcolm!" Maddie exclaimed. "My goodness, this is a surprise. You never..."

Her smile faltered, starting from the eyes, those grey eyes that were so like his own – a legacy of the Reeds.

"Are you all right? Has anything happened?"

Malcolm raised his eyebrows. "Do I need a catastrophic reason for calling you? I... Well, it's been a long time."

Madeline looked at him long and strong. "What are you not telling me?" she asked knowingly.

Malcolm sighed. Maddie had always been able to read him like a book. Having shared the burden of Stuart's discipline, and devised common tactics to evade it, they had developed a camaraderie that had closely bonded them.

"You know me too well," he gave in. "Today, for some reason, I was reminded of the time you almost drowned." He chose the abridged version of the facts – he wasn't going to go into details.

"_We_ almost drowned," Maddie corrected him. Her eyes turned pained. "Does that still haunt you? I'm _so_ sorry, Malcolm. It was entirely my fault."

"You know that's not true. I was supposed to watch over you."

Madeline shook her head in defeat. "We've gone over it so many times. You did warn me. And you were only a child. We were both just children."

"Yeah."

"If I had behaved," Maddie went on obliviously, "Maybe today you'd be in the Navy, instead of roaming the galaxy light years away from home, and things between you and father-"

"No," Malcolm cut her off firmly. "That has nothing to do with you. And I'm quite happy about my life, really."

Madeline smiled a tender sort of smile. "We were lucky that stranger arrived on the beach just in time."

"So much for father's _beware of strangers _refrain."

Madeline's giggle was still that of the exuberant child she had been. Malcolm tilted his head. "So, how are you?"

They chatted companionably for a good few minutes. It was time to say good-bye; but before, there was something Malcolm had to ask.

"That day..." He narrowed his eyes, a frown creasing his brow. "What the hell was so important that mum left us on a deserted beach?" he asked in a smoky voice. "It just wasn't like her." He let out a soft huff. "I must have removed it, because I can't for the life of me remember."

Madeline's eyes went wide. "You can't?" She wrinkled her nose in that way of hers. "She'd got up early to cook, so lunch would be ready when we got back from the beach, and she forgot some potatoes on the stove. She was afraid the house would go up in smoke. She wanted to bring us back with her, but I threw a tantrum. And so..."

"Potatoes?" Malcolm breathed out. "All for some bloody potatoes?"

* * *

At least Madeline had not been scarred by the experience like him, Malcolm mused, once alone with his thoughts again. It was enough one of them had developed aquaphobia. For he would never forget the helplessness, the fear and despair that had gripped him that day, in the water, so many years ago. It had marked him for life.

The bell chimed. Malcolm looked at the door for a moment; then got up and went to answer it.

"Commander? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, why should anything be wrong?" Trip wondered, sounding almost offended.

Malcolm blinked. "Well, how about because I'm the armoury and security officer of this ship?" he replied, much in the same tone of voice.

Trip rolled his eyes. "I was gonna grab something to eat, and wondered if you'd join me."

As a matter of fact, he _was_ rather hungry, now that Malcolm thought of it. "Why not." He grabbed a sweatshirt and turned off the light.

"It's Wednesday," Trip said with a smile as they walked along the corridor. His step had a bounce to it.

"Thank you, Trip. I know that."

"Tonight it's mashed-potatoes-with-mushroom-gravy night."

Malcolm groaned. "Anything _but_ potatoes."

"What, you don't like potatoes?" Trip wondered.

"If you really must know, potatoes caused me serious problems during childhood that still have repercussions today."

Trip shot him a weird sideway glance. "That explains a few things."

Malcolm smiled to himself. The Navy? Nah, he really _was_ quite happy about his life; his life among the stars.

THE END

As always looking forward to any comments.


End file.
